


A Mind of City Lights

by tiredgaykeith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, And Other Cyberpunk Things, Androids are a Thing, Artificial Intelligence, Canon-Typical Violence, Defining Humanity, Dystopia, F/M, Slow Burn, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 20:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredgaykeith/pseuds/tiredgaykeith
Summary: The mission was simple. Infiltrate and destroy the growing rebellion. It was a mission that KH5 was created for. But no amount of the Galra scientists’ simulations could’ve prepared her programming for Lance.





	A Mind of City Lights

 

_Welcome to Altea, the city of innovation and advancement!_

_Originally created as a joint collaboration between humans and the Altean monarchy, the city of Altea’s rights were given to Emperor Zarkon during the Earth Acquisition of 2091. While the Altean monarchy continues to live within the city walls, Galra Industries controls all facets of the city’s development, creating the flourishing nightlife you will find today! During your stay here, you will find endless opportunities to experience the incredible development our leader Zarkon has strived to create. We are always developing, always creating, always improving on the current form of Earth. We at Galra Industries have made it our duty to see that the native life of Earth, which creates disease and imperfections, becomes eradicated. You may have heard rumors of rebellion rising underneath us, but we must assure you these rumors are false. While some barbaric humanoids have tried to stay hidden and at times create havoc on our beautiful city, the elite Galra forces have destroyed any possibility of a mass uprising._

_So, please. Relax. Go for a stroll. Enjoy the late-night entertainment. You are in good hands._

_Vrepit Sa,_

_Galra Industries_

* * *

 

“I don’t mean to add pressure, dude. But you got exactly...,” Hunk paused a moment to check the clock, Lance could practically hear his best friend wince behind the radio, “62 seconds left before your window of opportunity closes.”

Lance grumbled and replied a quick, “Copy,” before refocusing.

He tried re-adjusting his aim again, the heavy metal of the sniper feeling particularly heavy on his shoulders this night. Usually this was a breeze for him, but there was something seated on his chest that felt unfamiliar. It made his heart race right when he needed it to be the quietest. He felt like something was on the verge of breaking, like a vase tipped over just enough that you weren’t sure if it would break or fall back into place. Like they were a second from disaster, but there was nothing to tell him what that disaster would be. So he forced himself to calm down and complete the mission.

He peered through the scope to look back down at the cyborg, Galra superior thirty-two floors beneath him in the other building. The cyborg’s frame was hunched over as he walked into the open, city night air, seven androids guarding him in a circle. His eyes were straight forward and glowing an unnatural yellow hue, the strange purple tint of his skin flashed brightly from the bright, neon lights that adorned downtown Altea. Lance felt his heartbeat slow as he honed his focus, aiming directly at the center of his forehead. He took a deep breath, tightened his sweaty grip on the trigger-

“Lance.” Hunk sounded fearful through the radio in his ear, breaking his concentration once again.

“Hunk, as your friend,” Lance spoke into the ear pierce, “I must ask you to kindly shut the fuck up.”

Hunk didn’t speak again, and Lance was able to refocus. The air smelled of hot metal, gasoline, and filth from the streets below. It was disgusting, stomach-wrenching if you weren’t used to it. But spending seven years hiding in the grittiest, darkest places of Altea from the Galra forces made it easy for Lance. He swallowed a lump in his throat, watching the man through the scope when those glowing yellow eyes slowly looked up before making eye contact with Lance. The yellow burning beneath the cyborg Sendak’s eyes made a part inside Lance snap, the heat under his heavy, dark blue helmet rising as anger seeped into the grip on his sniper. There was a faint memory of his mother’s sweet songbird voice, and his father’s deep laugh that passed over him, and all the bubbling anger boiled over as he pulled the trigger.

The bullet went through the cyborg’s skull, not spraying thick blood as a human would, but cracking his smooth skin like a rock, shards falling as he fell to his knees. A perfect shot.

Lance leapt into action as he rushed to the edge of the building, soaring above the pavement below and hitting the next rooftop with a hard slap. After running for five blocks, he checked over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed, but there were no signs he had been caught. Latching onto a rusted, old pipe, he swung himself over the rooftop and slid down, grease and dirt covering his gloved hands. When he was a few feet from the ground, he pushed himself out and fell directly on top of the familiar dirty, blue van, hopping quickly into the back passenger side window.

“Woohoo!” Lance shouted, adrenaline rushing through him as he pulled the helmet off his head. Hunk, already in the front seat, stepped hard on the gas, getting them back onto the highway. It had been a few weeks since his last big mission, and the feeling was welcome after the dreary patrols Shiro put him on. As he placed the sniper carefully away in its holding case he talked quickly to his friend, “Damn, Hunk! Were you able to get a view on that one? It was beautiful, man, shattered him to straight up pieces - whoa! Dude, watch the turns!”

Hunk rushed through the traffic of the late-night highway, trying to both get away at a decent time and not draw attention. Hunk gave him an apologetic look through the center mirror. “Ugh, sorry man! Kind of in a rush here, though. But yeah! I’m sure the kill was great! Just as awesome as the rest of the ones.”

Lance rolled his eyes, trying not to pout as he finished packing up the equipment and pulled out his phone (untraceable, thanks to his good man Hunk) to message Keith

_Finished, perfect kill. As usual >:) What’s the meet up point?_

The message arrived almost instantly.

_You take too long. 23rd and Hudson._

Lance rolled his eyes while he removed the lightweight armor they used for the missions. Couldn’t someone appreciate his excellent eye and shooting skills here? Keith sucked at long-range shooting, anyways. Like his opinion actually mattered. Once he was stripped down to a plain blue turtleneck and black denim, Lance pulled himself off the passenger seat in the back and launched himself into the front, much to Hunk’s unamusement as he hit the back of the chairs with his heavy black boots a few times, snatching the vacant aux cord dangling in the middle of the seats. He grabbed an old and worn music player from his back pants pocket and plugged it in, flipping through the music library before settling on a raspy rock ballad. The woman’s voice came out of the speakers, lulling them into a silence as Hunk seemed to calm down, confident they weren’t being chased, and tapping his fingers along with the tune.

It was an old song, even considered old when his father owned the player and not him. A lot of the music on the player seemed almost a century old, but maybe that’s what Lance’s dad had wanted to remember. Music before the fall. It was music that was surely lost to time from the Galra’s forces destroying most of humanity’s music, books, and other cultural ties. Lance let the ballad consume him, the uncomfortable feeling in his chest from earlier still there but duller now, letting himself watch through the window as they flashed past the other cars on the long freeway, surrounded by the city’s blinding lights.

_Years go by, will I choke on my tears 'til, finally there is nothing left_

_One more casualty, you know we're too easy, easy, easy_

 

* * *

 

**No. KH5: Simulation Begin.**

 

When she opened her eyes the first thing she noted was how the bright, purple neon lights that lit the long corridor seemed to flicker on and off, making it almost impossible to see down to the end of the corridor. Her eyes adjusted quickly thanks to the improvements they recently made to her artificial retinas, and saw the body that flashed in front of her not a moment too late.

With a quick grab at the large weapon that the body held, she flipped the offender around throwing and breaking it into shards of metallic plastic a few feet behind her. More plastic bodies continued the assault while she moved forward slowly but steadily, and as the slew of bodies came to a stop, she had a grand total of twenty-three.

At the end of the corridor was a room, glowing with the flickering purple lights. She walked forward in dead silence as she peaked around the wall. Subject A sat crouched to the ground, working on an explosive, while Subject B and C stood with their primitive guns ready. She thought for a moment that there was no way humanoids could be so idiotic to believe those guns would bring down a Class A Artificial. She was built of an aluminum, titanium alloy body, a   lightweight but impervious metal. It was a tragedy really, she thought as she grabbed the katar attached to her thigh, that a race once believed to be so great was actually so fragile.

When both of the figures’ eyes were off the end of the corridor where Katie awaited, she sprang from her position, running at full force to the subjects. Their reactions were a bit late, but they took aim and fired. Time slowed as her eyes focused, and let her body adjust to the trajectory of the bullets flying in her direction, swerving before she finally reached her targets.

She used her force to smash into the one on her right side, with her katar she wrapped a cord around Subject C and slammed them back against the metal walls. Her eyes focused on Subject A, now moving fast trying to set the bomb off. She retracted the katar wrapped around Subject C and sent it flying at Subject A’s head.

But unlike the rest of the simulations and the plastic bodies she fought in the corridor, there was a fragile moment when her eyes met blue ones, wide and fearful, before the thick red of the subject’s blood filled her vision.

 

**Simulation Complete. Time: 05:03:19.**

 

When KH5’s eyes opened again, gasping for air, she was back inside the white simulation room, hundreds of cords attached to her body and sprawling out like tentacles to the computers where the Galra scientists received the data from the simulation. Her heart rate was high from the adrenaline of the fight, but thanks to the calming agent they had put into her body, it fell back to a steady pace within a few moments.

A scientist came over and carefully removed the wires that were attached to her, feeling some of them pop, twist, and squeeze shut, depending on their location. That’s when she heard a sharp clapping noise that broke the mutters of the scientists and the fast tapping on their fingers. She looked across the room, where a Galra man with white, glistening hair draped down his back was stalking towards her with a carefully guarded smile.

It had been sometime since KH5 had seen Lotor, her last stored memory of him being at a gala some months ago when she was working security. While it was known he stayed up to date on what was happening in the Galra Industries laboratories, he had never been one to visit during diagnostic testings. At least, not during KH5’s.

“Excellence.” Lotor’s voice rolled off like a thick purr from the stray cats that walked the night city, his yellow eyes drilling into her. “Practically perfection. What’s its makeup, exactly?”

“It’s an Artificial Human, Class A, sir,” the scientist who helped her up informed him. “A special design of breeding genetically modified humans and adding genetic reconstructions similar to the part android Artificial Humans to their DNA, creating the most realistic AI of our time. Only a handful of successful attempts, yet.”

Lotor nodded thoughtfully as Katie stood up from the simulation bed and had her black bodysuit removed. One of the scientists handed over her everyday wear: a black tank top, black pants, and black lace up boots.

All her clothes were black. She was getting bored of it and often fantasized about the colors she saw the elites wear to the balls and galas she would stand guard at. She still remembered the color of one dress, a pale green color so soft, almost white under the harsh, white lights of the gala that night. But these thoughts were only her human genetics speaking, a voice reminded her in the back of her mind, that sounded like her drastic instructor from her younger years. Thoughts that needed to be ignored for her greater purpose. She had learned that the hard way already.

After tying her second boot and dressing, she was surprised to still see Lotor looming over her.

“What’s her name?” he called out to one of the scientists on the other side of the room now.

“Assignment KH5, sir-”

“No!” Lotor’s sharp voice made the scientists jump with fear, and Lotor’s eyes fell to KH5. “Your name, what you go by to your peers. What is it?”

Katie had never been asked by an elite for her common name, especially not Lotor, son of Zarkon himself. But she didn’t hesitate on her answer.

“Katie,” she replied, reminding herself not to look him straight in the eye lest she offend him.

Lotor’s cool hand fell under her chin and pulled her face up, forcing her to look at him anyways. The lack of warmth under his skin reminded her that even as a Class A Artificial Human, she was still just that. Human. And humans would always fall short of the Galra.

“Katie, hm?” Lotor’s eyes grew heavy with a darkness, his smile wide in an unnatural way, “You’ll do. I have a mission for you.”

 

* * *

 

“So, Sendak is down, huh?” Shiro’s eyes were focused on the holographic board in front of him that had photo references of each of the top Galra elites. Sendak was located just a few spaces underneath Zarkon, Lance noted proudly, as he watched Shiro’s mechanical hand flick the screen, turning Sendak’s colored photo grey. They had made it back to their homebase, the old, broken down buildings centered in the outskirts of Altea. While the Galra government had left the older buildings to rot while they focused on their tourism downtown, the rebellion had taken up a home here, now 500 strong. And growing, Lance mentally added.

With Shiro’s leadership of the rebellion, they had managed to eliminate almost half of Zarkon’s top Galra elites and release hundreds of their own from labor camps. Lance watched as Shiro sighed deeply, eyes still on the screen as he sank back into the squeaky chair by his desk, the metal of his prosthetic shining in the light of the large holographic screen. He knew Shiro would deny that he had a large role in it, but everyone knew better. Without Shiro, they never would’ve been able to strike a deal with Allura, the Princess of Altea herself, and develop the complex communications line that created an organized coalition instead of the small riots that once overtook the streets. Nor would they have had such a deep knowledge of the Galra government’s elites and how to take them down. Shiro was, in every sense of the word, Lance’s idol.

“Good work today, Lance.” Shiro’s voice and firm smile caused another burst of pride to burn in Lance’s chest. “Today was a great success for the coalition. But even with Sendak taken down, we’re going to have to be more careful around here. His lackies may not have been able to track you and Hunk, but they’re getting closer to finding our headquarters over here. We’ll have to make another move within the next few weeks.”

Lance groaned, letting his back hit the rusty, metal wall of the underground bunker they built beneath one of the buildings. “So soon? We just got here a few month ago, Shiro. We stayed at the last place for almost a year!”

“What Shiro says, goes,” another firm voice from the corner of the room reminded him.

Lance rolled his eyes at his fellow lieutenant, Keith Kogane, who was currently watching over Hunk’s shoulder as he ran over the diagnostics for the barrier system around their encampment. He and Keith always struggled in their shared responsibility of being right beneath Shiro in line of command. Of course, Keith had been there longer, so it made sense why he was technically second in command, though Lance had gone into great lengths with Hunk why that was a terrible choice.

And there was that night, no matter how hard Lance tried to forget about it, that he caught Shiro bending Keith over the desk Shiro sat at now. He still didn’t go near that cursed furniture.

“I know it’s soon Lance.” Shiro gave him sympathetic eyes. “But I can’t let them get on our tracks, even for a minute. The Galra still outnumber us greatly.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Lance sighed, caving in and deciding to switch conversation. “Anyways, who’s on perimeter duty tonight?”

Shiro pulled up the mini holographic computer on his desk, flickering to a file.

“Looks like Brooks and Santos are covering the sunset to 11 shift, and then you and Keith taking over the 11 to 3 shift, and then Klaus and Shada until sunrise.”

Lance groaned again, louder this time.

“God, can you stop complaining just for one second--”

“You shut it, Keith! Just cause I don’t want the graveyard shift with a smelly, mullet-wearing--”

“It’s not a mullet!”

Shiro sighed and sank further into his chair, looking over to Hunk who was giving him an apologetic smile from his laptop. Shiro mouthed, _Coffee?_ And Hunk silently got up and gave him a thumbs up, heading out of the office. Leaving Shiro to deal with his lieutenants.

 

“I can’t believe Shiro actually smacked the back of my head like a child,” Keith grumbled as they walked along the far perimeter of the rebels’ four blocks of abandoned cityscape.

Lance wasn’t a fan of this hideout in particular, he admitted to himself. It was ugly, and the color of brown and red rust covered the majority of the buildings there, the space used as a trash pile once when the neighborhood was still occupied before most humans had been placed into the labor camps.

Lance kicked a can into a nearby ditch they were headed towards, the back of his own head still a bit sore from the hit of Shiro’s hand. “At least he used his human hand?” Lance offered.

Keith scoffed, but a small smile grew on his face. Despite their arguments, he and Keith were close in their own special way.

“You took awhile on this mission today,” Keith noted. “Why? Was the opening just shitty or...”

Keith trailed off and Lance sighed, recalling the mission.

“I don’t know, man.” Lance’s voice was quieter than usual, almost a whisper. “I had this feeling in my chest. Like I get occasional anxiety; who doesn’t nowadays? But there’s been this tension in the air all day that I just... can’t place.”

Keith gave him a concerned look. “You think something's gonna happen?”

Lance shrugged, gazing off in the distance were the dark blue sky met the fiery orange of the glowing city. “Maybe? I can’t tell... usually I understand what my instincts are trying to tell me but it’s like... my instincts don’t even really know. There’s just something hanging in the air and I can’t figure out what it’s going to be.”

Keith hummed, deep in thought. They walked in tension for a few minutes, before Lance grew weary of the silence.

“So. When’s your next mission?” Lance asked, peering around a corner of one of the abandoned buildings carefully.

“Late night tomorrow,” Keith huffed as he zipped up his maroon leather jacket, breath visible in the night air. “This one is some gang though, been helping Zarkon undercover for some time. Only five guys I gotta take out.”

Lance scoffed at that. “Five guys on a single takedown? Sometimes I forget how crazy you are--”

“Shut up,” Keith cut him off, stopping from their pace.

“Hey don’t interrupt me--”

Keith’s hand flew over Lance’s mouth as he made a motion with his hand to sush. Lance waited until he heard what Keith had. A small grunt from the ditch they were headed towards, barely noticable. Lance silently drew the pistol from his waist while Keith unsheathed his knife, both of them slowly inching towards the ditch. As they moved closer, the grunts seemed to turn to a pained whimper.

When Lance reached the edge of the ditch, he noticed a small head of light brown hair, and knew it couldn’t be an assassin or goon of Zarkon. No, Galra had black or white hair, nothing else.

This was a human.

Lance pushed Keith back, ignoring his friend’s surprise, and looked over. There in the rut laid a girl with dirt and grim covering her standard outfit of the nearby labor camp. Her short brown hair was messy and wild, and she looked like she had been through hell, but when she looked up, Lance lost his breath for a moment. Her eyes shimmered like copper, almost like perfectly cut glass.

“Please,” she gasped. “They can’t find me.”

Lance immediately dropped his weapon onto the ground and fell into the ditch, carefully picking up the girl’s body. Despite her tiny build, Lance was surprised at her weight, struggling to pull her up from the ditch. As they laid her onto the flat ground, Lance brushed her bangs out of her face, meeting those coppery eyes once again.

_Now is_ not _the time for romance, Lance_ , he reminded himself.

“Who are you?” Lance asked, while Keith radioed emergency services.

She gasped for air again, slipping out a single word before passing out, leaving Lance confused and in a daze under the foggy midnight sky.

“Pidge.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed because it really makes my day! Also come and chat me up over on tumblr @ tiredgaykeith. Much love <3


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